By BERRY ANDERSON
A couple of songs into the set, Jeff Pickman, guitarist for Action Figure proclaimed, “This place Crosstown Station kicks ass!”
He is right… It kicks ass in that squeaky-clean, new-place kind of way.
Scoring major points for sound quality, general stage appearance, and superfriendly staff (when was the last time a bartender called you “Love”?), downtown’s newest music venue/nightclub/bar opened this weekend to near-capacity crowds. Though I missed out on Friday night’s California Voodoo (covering all of Widespread Panic’s greatest jams), I threw down seven dollars to see what all the hype was about behind that tastefully done southfacing mural.
The evening’s bill included Lawrence’s genre-bending Volunteers, the powerpop foursome Action Figure, and sensitive balladeers Carmine Red. I arrived early enough to find myself in the midst of a complete sausagefest on both sides of the bar. I gravitated towards co-owner Melissa Mitchell, who was sitting at the end of the bar going through what appeared to be job applications. Would the hiring of hot “rock” chicks to open assloads of Bud Light bottles be in CtS’s near future?
“Everything we have going on until after the first of the year is still kind of a soft opening. We are still working out all the kinks,” the pleasant blond woman explained. Her husband, Chip Mitchell, rounds out the ownership team. When asked about the venue’s schedule, which seems rather cover-band heavy, she replied, “We plan on booking all different kinds of bands, including solo acoustic type acts early in the evening for happy hour.”
Currently, Chip Mitchell and Nate Evert are doing the booking. I was told later on by an anonymous source employed by CtS that “it’s too easy to book shows here because everyone wants to play here.” I suppose if I were in a band, I’d want to play here too. I would even feel comfortable inviting my baby boomer neighbors (which I think is what some of the evening’s artists did) to partake in the sterile, nondescriptness of it all. Management does have plans for adding more decorations to the former auto warehouse; that side of things wasn't quite finished after the six-month remodel. Right now, exposed wood beams, partial carpeting (which I was told right away was for “acoustic purposes only”), and two lone flatscreen plasmas above the bar are the only eye candy besides the stage and crowd. Upstairs, a VIP lounge is waiting to be unveiled as well. Once completed, it will have a removeable dance floor, DJ booth, and closed circuit TVs so that the show downstairs is visible. Perfect for your private Kid Rock afterparty.
Sure, Crosstown Station lacks the grittiness of a place like Davey’s and the dark, coolness of the Record Bar. However, it seems accessible to all -- the kind of place where your younger cousin won’t have to say, “Daaaaddd! You’re embarrrrrrassssing me!” to your Uncle Herb when he is shakin’ his junk to the Green Day tribute band.
And that, my hipsterfuck friends, is what downtown needs.
Critic’s Notebook
Personal Bias: Better rock was found south on McGee at the Brick with St. Louis’ Cold War Direction.
Random Detail: More chain wallets than fauxhawks
By The Way: Crosstown Station has pizza. Good pizza. All. Night. Long
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